Long Hard Road Out of Hell
by poorpiratelass
Summary: Dean's in Hell, facing an eternity of torture until he meets some demons who remember what it was like to be human. He joins forces with them to fight their way back to the world of the living – but it's a long hard road out of Hell. ON HIATUS
1. All in Your Head

Afterlife

Long Hard Road Out of Hell

Summary: Set after the Season 3 finale. Dean's in Hell and facing an eternity of torture – until he meets some demons who remember what it was like to be human. He's ready to join forces with them and fight his way back to the world of the living – but it's a long hard road out of Hell.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural. I also do not own the Marilyn Manson song whose title I borrowed, and whose lines I quoted below. I am only a poor college student with no money and too much time on my hands. Please take pity on me and don't sue.

Rating: M

"_Spin my way out of Hell_

_There's nothing left of this soul to sell…_

_I want to live, I want to love,_

_But it's a long hard road out of Hell."_

* * *

Chapter 1: All in Your Head

"Sam! Sam! Help me! Sam!"

His pleas for help were interrupted by a scream of pain. The lightening flashing all around him had once again sent electricity jolting through the wires he was entangled in. The pain tore all through his body.

Gasping for breath, tears in his eyes, Dean Winchester swallowed his pain and once again called, "Sam! Help me! Sam!"

He wasn't sure why he was screaming for his little brother. It made no sense, really. Deep down, Dean knew that Sam couldn't hear him.

"SAM!! Help me! SAM!!"

He couldn't just give up and accept the inevitable. So far, he had been able to manage the pain, but he wouldn't be able to last forever. Eventually, ignoring the pain wasn't going to work anymore, even if ignoring the things that hurt him was what he did best. Dean Winchester was in Hell – and he didn't know if he could accept it. He was pretty damn sure, however, that he wouldn't be able to handle it.

"SAM!"

His cry for his younger brother was followed by another scream of agony. The lightening had hit him again, and the pain from the shock burned all through his system. Maybe it was his imagination, but Dean was sure that the intensity of the jolts was increasing each time one hit him. Dean squeezed his eyes shut.

One solitary teardrop dripped down his cheek.

"You're going to die, Dean! And this – this is what you're going to become!"

The voice was his, and the image in his head was of his own face, with huge black demon eyes. Dean groaned. The flashbacks were returning. He'd had a few of them yesterday too – if it had been yesterday. He had no idea how long he'd been down in this, well… this Hell. Time no longer made sense to him. All he knew was the pain and the misery of both his current situation, and the memories of situations past.

"Sam! Sam, help me!"

The pain shot through his body again, and he twisted in shapes that couldn't be natural. Dean closed his eyes, grimacing. Blood trickled down his temple. He felt his skin burning from under his wife beater.

"You're not going to like it, Dean. It's bitter despair. Why do you think we want to come here?"

"Hell will burn away your humanity. Every hell bound soul, everyone, turns into something else. Turns you into us."

"That's what happens when you go to Hell, Dean. That's what Hell is. Forgetting who you are."

Dean let out a roar, forcing his eyes open. Every damn time he closed them, he heard something he didn't want to hear.

It was real, this godforsaken pit of a dimension. Hell existed, and it burned. Dean flinched violently as another bolt of electricity razed through him.

"I am _not_ going to forget who I am!"

Dean wasn't sure what had possessed him to shout that out into the large, dark, never ending emptiness surrounding him, but shout he did. He hung his head, the dejection setting in.

"Sam?" This time it came out as a whisper.

Who was he kidding? Sam wasn't coming for him.

A second teardrop rolled down his cheek. Slowly, he closed his eyes.

"Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?"

"No one can save you because you don't want to be saved."

"My father was an obsessed bastard! All that crap he dumped on me about protecting Sam, that was his crap! He's the one who couldn't protect his family! He's the one who let Mom die, who wasn't there for Sam! I always was! It wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me! And I don't deserve to go to Hell!"

"You're going to die, Dean! And this, this is what you're going to become!"

Dean wrenched his eyelids opened and swore loudly. "Damn it!"

He gasped for breath, blinking furiously. His eyes were burning, but not with unshed tears. Something felt strange. It felt as if his eyes were swelling in their sockets.

"I am _not_ going to become _that_," he whispered to himself. "I am not. I am not!"

Another bolt of electricity rippled through him, burning through his system. He screamed in agony. Then, he felt something poke his side.

Dean frowned, confused. He blinked, trying to see through the white web around him. All he saw was black. Emptiness.

The jab came again. And again, and again. "What the fuck!" he exclaimed, fidgeting as much as the web would allow. He almost forgot his current, painful situation in light of this new distraction. The jab came again. Dean was starting to get pissed. As if it wasn't enough that he was being shocked with some sort of supernatural lightening, as well as being tormented by his not-so-pleasant memories, now he was going to be poked for eternity? Ironically, this sounded worse than the aforementioned indignities.

For some reason, Dean began to laugh. As he laughed, tears began to roll down his cheeks. He knew he sounded half insane, but what did he care? There was no one to hear him here, and even if there were, they were probably completely insane themselves.

Two more jabs pierced his side. And then, Dean started to fall. He slid from between the white wires, and fell into the black emptiness beneath him.

_Bam_! He hit something hard, landing on his back. He stared up at the gray and twisted sky above him through the tangled white wires, watching the constant lightening. Tears were still rolling down his cheeks.

He heard footsteps beside him. Turning his head, he saw a pair of heavy black boots next to his head. Slowly, he looked up. Above the boots he found ripped and faded blue jeans, then a flannel shirt, and then a black neck marred by an ugly red scar that went all the way around it. Attached to the neck was a dark, shaven head, with black facial hair, a scarred temple, and big empty black demon eyes.

Gordon Walker stood beside him in demon form, staring down at him. The former hunter carried a long stick in one hand, and his face was blank and unreadable, much like it had been in life. Dean stared at him incredulously.

"Quit your crying, boy," Gordon ordered. "Don't you know it's all in your head?"

* * *


	2. The Pit within the Pit

Long Hard Road Out of Hell

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural. I also do not own the Marilyn Manson song whose title I borrowed, and whose lines I quoted below. I am only a poor college student with no money and too much time on my hands. Please take pity on me and don't sue.

Rating: M

AN: Thanks to ukfan101 for the review!

* * *

Chapter 2: The Pit within the Pit

Dean stared disbelievingly at Gordon. "What now?" he asked, a single bitter chuckle escaping his lips. For a moment, the bravado that Dean had once been so full of returned full force. "Am I about to get tortured by the great Gordon Walker? Fantastic. First electrical shock, now beatings at the hands of a dead asshole. I've got to say, if this is _all_ Hell has to offer, then I'm unimpressed. Original much?"

Gordon smirked slightly. Dean wasn't about to admit it, but his large, black, empty demon eyes were significantly creepy. "You Winchesters are something," he drawled. Dean couldn't help but notice that Gordon was eerily similar in death to the way he had been in life. "Especially you, Dean. Always got to have something to say. Never can keep your big mouth shut long enough to hear what other people are telling you."

"Yeah? And what is it you're trying to tell me? That my brother's the next antichrist? Forgive me if I'm not dying to hear _that_ story."

Again, Gordon smirked. "You think I still got that bullshit on my mind? Look around you, Dean. We're in Hell. I got bigger problems now."

Dean glowered at the man standing over him. To his surprise, Gordon offered him his hand. "Come on," he said.

Dean eyed the hand being offered to him with distrust. Gordon snorted. "What's the matter, Dean? Don't trust me?"

"Old habits die hard," Dean smirked.

There was amusement around the corners of Gordon's mouth. "Dean, Dean, Dean. Didn't peg you for a grudge-holder. Come on now, boy, and take the hand. You ain't about to find another friendly face."

Another moment passed as Dean gave Gordon a once over. Finally, he took Gordon's hand, and let the dead hunter haul him to his feet. "That a boy, Dean. That a boy."

Dean stood on his feet, trying not to sway. Everything ached and burned, but to his surprise, the pain wasn't crippling. He could walk and move around – and it hurt like a bitch, no lie – but he could ignore the pain, and do whatever he needed to do. His thoughts wandered from his pain to the man helping him.

"Why the fuck are you helping me, anyway?" Dean demanded coldly.

"Boy, you ever hear of the expression 'don't look a gift horse in the mouth?'"

Dean made an incredulous noise. "Of course I have."

"Well," Gordon smiled slowly, patiently – creepily. "Don't look this gift horse in the mouth."

They stared at one another for a moment. Then Gordon turned and began to walk. "Come on," he said. "We got to go."

Dean fell into step beside him. He hated Gordon, he really did – but he was a familiar face, and Dean didn't want to be alone for eternity. For now, Gordon was better than nothing.

That didn't mean Dean had to trust him, though. "Got to admit, Gordon, I can't quite get a handle on this. I mean, your expression's good and all, but the words of wisdom I usually try to live by are 'if it sounds too good to be true, it probably is.' So tell me, Gordon, why are you helping me?"

Gordon didn't answer the question, and he didn't look at Dean. "Don't you want to know where I'm taking you?" he asked.

Dean looked around him. He had expected Hell to be fiery, hot, and full of anguished, tortured souls. Instead, he found himself walking down a deserted road, under a mesh of white wires and a stormy sky. The road was lined with dark shadowy trees and bushes. Farther up ahead, the shrubbery turned into large, dark, shadowy rocks.

"All right then, I'll bite," Dean returned. "Where the fuck are you taking me?"

"A safe place," Gordon replied, still not looking at his companion. "As safe as you can be in a place like this."

Dean looked around him again. "So… where's the fire? The brimstone? The tortured souls?"

"It's here," Gordon assured him. "You'll see it eventually. When they think you're ready."

"When who thinks I'm ready?"

Gordon smirked. "Now if I told you that, you wouldn't be surprised."

Dean snorted. Gordon's smirk seemed to get gentler. "They're like us, Dean. They don't want to be here. But they don't want to destroy what's up there, either."

Dean frowned. Gordon continued with, "They're not good people, Dean. Neither are we, not anymore. They're demons. We're demons. Everyone here is a demon. But some of us aren't so completely evil and stupid that we can't see the big picture. That's where I'm taking you, Dean. To meet some demons who can see the big picture."

"You want me to meet some demons?" Dean asked incredulously. "Not a chance in Hell." He thought about that for a moment, and then amended, "I mean, not a chance in here."

Gordon didn't crack a smile. "You best get over that bigotry and get over it fast, Dean. You're one of us now. If I can accept it, then so can you."

Dean snorted again. "I'll never be one of you."

"It's not a choice, Dean, it's an inevitability. You already are one of us."

The two of them fell silent, walking past the undergrowth. They reached the rocks, and Gordon turned off into the huge rocky landscape, climbing over huge boulders. Dean followed him. After what felt like ages, they finally stopped by a crevice. "Here we are," Gordon announced.

Dean gave him a look that plainly said, 'You don't actually think I'm going to go in there, do you?' Gordon ignored the look.

"Hey," he said suddenly.

Dean stared at him.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about all the shit that happened with Sam. I shouldn't have been so obsessed. I know now what I didn't know then, and I can understand why I look like such an asshole to you."

Dean blinked. "So… wait," he frowned. "You're admitting you were wrong about Sam?"

"No," Gordon returned. "I was right. But so were you."

Dean gave him a confused look, which Gordon ignored. The man got down on his knees and began to climb into the crevice. "Wait," Dean stopped him.

Gordon stared up at him in surprise. "That mark on your neck," he said. "Is that where…?"

Gordon smirked, and gave his ear a tug. His head fell onto his shoulder, exposing the inside of his neck. Dean made a disgusted face at the blood and gore he saw in there. "Oh," he murmured. "Wow. That's…. pretty damn gross, is what that is."

Gordon righted his head. "Yeah," he replied. "That's where Sam took off my head." He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he didn't. Instead, he shook his head and continued the climb.

Dean knelt beside the crevice as well and began to climb down after Gordon. After a short climb, the two of them dropped down into a dimly lit chamber.

The chamber's dim light glowed red and Dean soon discovered the glow came from a tiny river of magma way in the back of the cavern. He frowned at the sight. It was pretty damn cheesy, now that he thought about it. A river of magma? It was so very _Land Before Time_.

"Walker," a voice spoke. "Who's the new guy?"

Both Dean and Gordon spun around at the voice. It came from a woman roughly Dean's age. At least, Dean supposed she was his age. She could be much older, for all he knew. There was no way to tell how long she had been down there.

She was only a few inches shorter than Dean, and she had a nice body. Even with the huge, dark, empty demon eyes, Dean could still acknowledge that. Her hair was long and tawny. She couldn't have been down there _too_ long because she wore jeans and a tee shirt. Her clothes were ripped and dirty. Through the various rips in her shirt, he could tell that there was a long jagged scar traveling across her torso. He supposed she had a pretty face, but the beauty was marred by another long jagged scar traveling from her right temple to her mouth. There were burn marks all up and down her left arm.

"Dean Winchester," Gordon replied evenly.

A slow smile spread across the girl's face. "Well, finally," she said. "How you holding up, Winchester?"

He nodded at her, trying to smirk. "I've been better," he returned.

"Sense of humor," she grinned. The grin wasn't a nice grin. "Hold on to that, kid."

"Dean?"

Dean turned around at the timid voice that had spoken his name. Behind him he saw a pale, pretty face framed by long wavy dark hair. The paleness of her face was in stark contrast to the blackness of her empty eyes. Despite the demon eyes, he recognized her immediately. Her name was Elizabeth. She had been a member of the witch coven that he, Sam, and Ruby had tried to stop. Elizabeth was the one who had saved them from the demon with a little spell work.

"Elizabeth?" he frowned.

She smiled softly, approaching him. That's when Dean realized something was desperately wrong. He looked down at her body in shock. Her face was turned to him, but the front of her body was not. He could see her shoulder blades through her thin shirt, the back pockets of her jeans, and the heels of her feet. Her head was on backwards.

He remembered the demon killing her. He remembered her head spinning all the way around. Suddenly, he felt sick. Elizabeth was doomed to look this way for all eternity.

"You look…" here she trailed off, frowning. "Good."

He could tell she was lying. He lied back to her. "Same to you."

Elizabeth gestured over at Gordon and the girl. "They've been waiting for you. We all have. Ever since she told us you were coming."

Dean frowned again. "Ever since _who_ told you I was coming?"

Elizabeth didn't get to answer. She was interrupted by a loud booming voice coming from the shadows. "What have we here?" the voice asked.

Dean turned to see a tall, stocky man swagger from the darkness. He wore ripped and bloody blue jeans, and a flannel shirt missing its sleeves and its buttons. His bare chest had three long jagged scars slashed diagonally across it, two coming from top right to bottom left, and the last one from top left to bottom right. He had shaggy, tawny hair that fell in his handsome, unshaven face, and a pair of big empty demon eyes. Speckled on his bare arms were more scars and some burn marks. A large burn could be found on his right cheek.

"Bill," the girl nodded at him. "Meet Dean Winchester."

Bill strode up to Dean, and Dean found himself staring up at him. Man, this dude was freaking huge. Bill took Dean's hand in a bone crushing grip – fortunately, crushed bones weren't one of Dean's worries any longer – and shook it vigorously.

"Nice to meet you, Winchester," the man announced. "Name's Bill Perkins. Welcome to Hell."

"Thanks," Dean nodded at Bill. "Uh… good to meet you too."

He laughed. Dean didn't particularly care for the way that laugh sounded.

Dean glanced around him. He couldn't see anyone else. It was just Bill, Elizabeth, Gordon, and the nameless girl in the cavern with him. "Is this everyone?" he asked Elizabeth. She seemed like the only _really_ friendly face in the bunch.

Elizabeth shook her head in the negative. Dean found the gesture ominous.

The girl approached him now and sized him up. Her eyes seemed to linger over his chest. "Hellhounds," she announced. "Even if I didn't know already, I'd be able to tell just by looking at that."

Dean looked down at his chest, and jumped. To his shock and horror, his wife beater was in tatters, and his chest was a crossword puzzle of jagged slashes. Blood stained the white fabric of his shirt. He looked disgusting.

The girl took in Dean's shocked and horrified face with an expression seemingly void of emotion. "Walker," she snapped. "You didn't show him?"

Gordon hung his head. Dean was surprised to suddenly see Gordon look so… so… broken.

"I couldn't," he said.

"You couldn't?" she spat. "You _couldn't_? You're worthless, Walker, you really are."

He gave her a glare, but didn't reply. Dean looked at Gordon's angry acquiescence, and then spared a glance at Elizabeth. She stared at the floor. It was a show of obedience. It began to dawn on Dean that the nameless girl was the ringmaster of this freak show.

"I'll do it myself," the girl announced, furious. She took Dean roughly by the arm and yanked him over to the magma, where the light was brighter. Then she reached into a recess in the rocky wall and pulled out a rather large mirror.

Dean stared at his reflection in shock. His clothes were torn, his chest was bloody – but these were things he'd seen only a moment before. What he hadn't seen was the scar on his temple, or the burn marks on his arms, or on his neck. But that wasn't the worst of it.

The one thing he saw staring back at him in the mirror that was worse than anything else was his eyes.

Dean Winchester had large, black, empty demon eyes.

"You're going to die, Dean! And this – this is what you're going to become!"

He stumbled back from the mirror, horrified. His back hit the rocky wall. His legs gave out from under him. He crumpled to the cavern floor.

The girl turned away from him and slid the mirror back into the recess. Then she walked away.

"Molly," Gordon said to her. "Was that really necessary?"

"You know it was," Molly spat.

Gordon met her eyes with his. "You didn't have to be so cruel about it."

Elizabeth knelt at Dean's side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Are you all right?" she asked softly.

Dean looked up at the comforting voice and met Elizabeth's eyes. Empty, cold, black demon eyes, just like his. He flinched violently, and jerked away from her.

She looked down at the cavern floor, the hurt evident on her face. Dean swallowed hard, and attempted to fix the damage his actions had done. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth," he whispered.

Elizabeth looked up at him, and he forced himself not to flinch at the sight of her eyes. She smiled softly yet sadly. "Don't apologize."

Dean swallowed again, and closed his eyes, leaning against the hard rock wall. He felt Elizabeth's comforting hand on his shoulder. She didn't speak; she just sat with him. He didn't want her there. She wasn't helping. She was trying to, and it was better than what anyone else was doing. But it wasn't helping. It wasn't enough.

"Molly," he heard Bill say in his loud, booming voice.

"Yeah, Bill?"

"They've come back."

Dean forced his eyes open. Who had come back? He turned questioning eyes on Elizabeth.

She squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry," she murmured. "We've been expecting them."

Expecting who? What the hell was going on here?

Molly was staring up into the crevice that Dean had climbed through with Gordon. She glanced over her shoulder at Dean with her big black eyes and grinned horribly.

"Ready to see an old friend, Winchester?"

* * *


	3. Epiphany

Long Hard Road Out of Hell

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural. I also do not own the Marilyn Manson song whose title I borrowed. I am only a poor college student with no money and too much time on my hands. Please take pity on me and don't sue.

Rating: M

* * *

Chapter 3: Epiphany

Dean watched with a mixture of horror and anticipation as three people climbed down through the crevice. He couldn't help but cringe once he got a good look at them. One was a man, judging by his tattered gray Confederate soldier uniform. The uniform was the only part of him that resembled anything. His skin was burned all over. There was no distinguishing the features of his face except for his demon eyes. Even his hair had been mostly singed off, and all that was left were random puffs on the top of his head.

The soldier was the first to climb down. Following close behind him was a woman, which Dean had surmised only from the skirts she was wearing. She looked like she was from the Colonial period. She had long blond hair, and her body was so twisted and burned that it barely had any skin left.

The third person jumped down off the rocky wall. It was another woman. This one looked like she'd come over on the Mayflower. Her dress was torn and singed. Her burns were even worse than the woman before her. There was no skin left on her body, and all her hair was gone. She was a mess of muscle and bone. Dean couldn't even be startled by her demon eyes because they blended in with the muscle of her face.

Dean noted the respect everyone paid the newcomers. Even Molly, who he had originally surmised to be in charge, bowed her head as though trying to be subservient. That's when he understood.

These were the veterans.

Dean stared at the girl who resembled a badly burned pilgrim. She smirked with a skeleton's grin at him. "What's the matter, Dean?" she asked far too sweetly. "Don't you recognize me?"

As a matter of fact, after a few moments of staring, he did recognize her. "Ruby?"

Her skeleton's grin grew wider. "Aw, shucks. You remember."

"So that's where Lilith sent you," Dean murmured. "Right back to where you came from."

"Yeah," Ruby replied. "She did. And they say you can't go home again."

He smirked. "Nice tan."

Ruby gave a short, mirthless laugh. "Well, it's good to know your absolutely delightful sense of humor is still in tact. Did you meet all my friends?"

"All except the ones you brought home with you," Dean returned.

"This is Annabelle," Ruby said, gesturing to the woman on her left. "And this is Collin." She gestured the man on her right.

"Nice to meet you," Dean grinned, rather ironically. They didn't bother to reply.

"So everyone met the famous Dean Winchester?" Ruby asked around. She smirked at Dean again. He had to admit, her smiles were more than unsettling. "You know, they were all aflutter when they heard you were coming by. Couldn't wait to meet the famous demon hunter who so stupidly sold his soul for his brother."

"Oh really?" Dean replied, smiling. "Well, I'm flattered. Hi, everyone."

Ruby sidled up close to him. She was attempting the sexy strut that she pulled off so excellently back when she'd been possessing that hot blonde chick. Now, in her true form, Dean found himself repulsed at the implied sexuality. There was nothing about _this_ Ruby that would ever convince him to fuck her.

"We've been waiting for you," she announced.

"And why is that?" Dean asked, still attempting his famed bravado. It didn't matter that only minutes before he had nearly broken down in front of Elizabeth, Molly, Gordon, and Bill. He wouldn't do that again, especially not in front of Ruby.

"Ever since the hounds took you, we've watched the skies for you," Ruby went on. "It had to have been… what would you all say? Two, three weeks?"

Dean swallowed noticeably. He hadn't realized how long he'd truly been down there.

"We've been waiting for you because we wanted you," she said. "We wanted to invite you into our loving family. After all, what's a demon resistance movement without a Winchester?"

"Oh. I see," Dean replied, rather bitterly. "So you're the good guys, then?"

"You had any doubt?" Ruby retorted.

He smirked and gave a short laugh, still sounding bitter. "You're demons, right? Can you blame me for having doubts?"

"Haven't quite shrugged off your bigoted ways, I see," Ruby gave him a smirk of her own. Hers was twice as unpleasant. "Time to let go of that, Dean. You wouldn't want to become self-loathing." Her smirk widened. "Oh, wait, I forgot. You already are."

Dean didn't have a reply to that. It was all he could do to continue smirking at the corpse like woman in front of him. Ruby turned from him. "Who found him?"

"Walker," Molly replied.

"Did he show him?"

"Yes," Molly replied. The moment Ruby was no longer looking, Molly and Gordon exchanged looks. An understanding seemed to form silently between them.

"Aren't you going to ask me how my excursion went?" Ruby asked sarcastically.

A small smile crept across Molly's face. "How was your excursion, ma'am?"

"You and I need to talk. Alone."

Molly nodded. Ruby retreated deep into the shadows of the cavern, Molly on her heels.

"What's going on?" Dean asked Elizabeth.

She smiled sadly. "Ruby went out to check for weaknesses in the pit."

Dean frowned. "What? What does that mean?"

"It means," Elizabeth's small sad smile grew very slightly. "That we might be getting out of here."

A faint flicker of hope kindled deep in Dean's chest. "Getting out?"

Elizabeth nodded. She looked happy, and yet still sad.

Dean began to understand what she meant by getting out. "Getting out as demons," he said. "Going back to possess people."

She nodded again.

The hell Dean was ever going to do something like that.

He changed the subject. "So, is Ruby like, in charge around here or something?"

"Ruby's the queen bee," Gordon announced. He had walked over to Elizabeth's side and was now joining the conversation. "Every little thing that we do, every idea we have, every new recruit… absolutely fucking everything goes through her first."

"And what about that other girl? Molly?"

"Molly is Ruby's favorite," Elizabeth said softly.

"Class A bitch," Gordon added. "But hey, we're in Hell. Ain't nobody perfect down here."

"When Ruby's gone, Molly's in charge," Elizabeth elaborated. "She's second in command."

"So…" Dean surveyed the rest of the group. "What's the story behind these other people?"

"You mean other demons?" Gordon returned. Dean shrugged. "I'll tell you the story, Dean. Let's start with Perkins over there. He and his sister showed up here in the seventies. Knifed down during a drug deal."

"Who's his sister?"

"Molly," Elizabeth said in a low voice.

"And Annabelle?" Gordon went on. "She was like Ruby and Elizabeth. A witch. Eventually, her demon got sick of her, and she ended up down here."

"Collin was a soldier in the Civil War," Elizabeth said.

"Yeah, and he was a piss poor soldier at that," Gordon spat. "As he lay dying on the battlefield, he met up with a demon. And that stupid bastard sold his soul for a few more years of life. Decade later and boom! Sizzle. He's down here."

"Are there any others?"

Elizabeth slowly shook her head. Dean stared at her incredulously. "You mean, this is it?" he asked. "Your little resistance movement is composed of eight demons?"

Gordon shrugged. "Hey, it's Hell," he returned. "Good help is hard to find."

There was something strange about Gordon as a demon, Dean couldn't help but note. There was less obsession in his eyes and his voice. This Gordon reminded Dean of the one he'd first met. The one they'd saved from a vampire. The one he'd shared beers and hunting philosophy with at a hole-in-the-wall bar. The Gordon that he had liked.

He supposed that Hell made you less concerned about serving the cause. It didn't really matter anymore how many evil things you killed. You were evil now too.

But Dean didn't feel evil. He felt like Dean Winchester, famous hunter, son of John Winchester the legend, and brother to Sammy, who might possibly be the next antichrist.

A chuckle sounded somewhere deep inside his head. Maybe it'd be better to feel evil.

Molly and Ruby reappeared from whatever cavern they'd disappeared into. "All right," Ruby ordered her troops. "You get a few hours rest, and then we've got work to do."

Dean looked up, startled at her words. Work to do? What sort of work could they possibly have to do?

"Don't you give me that look, Winchester," Ruby said, casting her creepy gaze over him. "This isn't the type of family you're used to. We don't love you unconditionally. Got to work if you're going to stay."

Dean smirked, and raised his hand in mock salute. "Aye, aye, Captain."

Ruby smirked at him. Then she disappeared back into her cavern. Dean watched as all around him, the demons he was now going to live with lay down on the hard rock floor, shut their big empty eyes, and tried to get some sleep.

Dean stared at them. Odd. With their eyes closed, they looked frighteningly human. He could almost feel a connection with them.

Which was silly, he supposed, feeling more connected to humans than demons. After all, Dean wasn't human anymore.

He lay back on the ground too, but his eyes wouldn't shut. Sleep was an impossibility here. Dean stared wide-eyed and mute up at the stone ceiling above him. The walls were closing in.

He was in the worst place he could be. There was nothing worse than this. How he was expected to sleep in a place where nightmares ruled the day and sweet dreams were nothing but pure fairy tales, he had no idea.

Dean sighed very quietly and closed his eyes.

"Watch out for Sammy."

"Take care of your little brother."

"There's something wrong with your brother. With all the children like him. The demon – it has a plan for those children. And if you can't save Sammy, you… you'll have to kill him."

Dean's eyes flew back open, his father's voice fading inside his head. This just wasn't going to work.

Did he even need to sleep, anyway? He was dead, for crying out loud. Why would a demon need to get some rest?

Sighing again, Dean rolled over on his side and closed his eyes once more.

"Don't you think it's time we… did something about the body?"

His eyes flew open again, his brain willing the vision of his little brother laying stiff and unmoving on the bed in that little cabin to go away. Sam wasn't dead anymore. Sam would live a full life, thanks to him.

Or would he? A taunting voice sang in his head. Sammy wasn't going to live a full life. Sammy was going to hunt forever. Sammy was going to be the next antichrist.

"Stop it," he whispered harshly into the dark, still cave. What had gotten into him, anyway, Gordon Walker?

Dean's eyes traveled over to the aforementioned hunter. He was lying still on the cavern floor. His eyes were closed. The ugly red scar around his neck almost glowed in the dim, red light.

What sort of things tormented Gordon Walker when he closed his eyes?

"It's easier for the ones like him."

Dean started, turning to look at the person who'd spoken. It was the Civil War soldier. He was sitting up, leaning against the rock wall. Dean attempted valiantly not to flinch at the ugly burns that were somehow made more prominent while he sat beside the magma.

"I said," the soldier repeated. "It's easier for the ones like him."

Dean blinked, unsure what he was supposed to say next. "Um… what does that mean? You know, the ones like him?"

"The ones who show up here all surprised," he replied. "The ones who never paid the idea of Hell a second thought. Or were so convinced they were doing God's work that they never entertained the possibility of ending up down here."

Dean stared at him. "I know," he went on. "You're thinking, wouldn't that be worse? To show up here after thinking you'd been doing so well? Nah. They get over it. They can contribute it to some twisted extension of God's plan. But us? You and me? The ones who sold our souls? We're stuck down here with the agonizing knowledge that we sent ourselves here. That we could have chosen differently, and we still chose this. We came willingly to a place of eternal suffering. Makes it hard not to engage in self-loathing."

Dean blinked at him again. Collin continued with, "You're not quite there yet, I know. You're waiting for the shock to wear off. The loathing comes with the burns."

Dean still had no reply, and at this point, he doubted the soldier expected one. "No," he said thoughtfully, almost to himself. "There's a difference between someone who makes a few wrong turns and finds himself on the path to Hell, and someone who hopped on the expressway and took it right to the gate. You and me, friend, we took the expressway."

Collin lay down on the rocky floor and closed his eyes. "Good night, Winchester."

Dean stared at the demon as he shifted around, trying to get in a comfortable position. "Good night, Collin," he murmured.

He lay back down on the floor and closed his eyes once again.

"You're going to die, Dean! And this – this is what you're going to become!"

His eyes flew open again. A sinking feeling accompanied a sudden epiphany.

It was too late. He'd already become that. He was – he swallowed hard, hatred vibrating throughout his body – he was a demon. Dean Winchester was a demon.

Somewhere out there, on the other side of the gate, probably lost in the cosmos or something equally gay like that, his father, John Winchester, must be beyond disappointed.

* * *


	4. Education

Long Hard Road Out of Hell

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural. I also do not own the Marilyn Manson song whose title I borrowed. I am only a poor college student with no money and too much time on my hands. Please take pity on me and don't sue.

Rating: M

AN: Thanks to V956970 and Arrastra for the reviews!

* * *

Chapter 4: Education

Dean was amazed to discover he'd actually fallen asleep.

He didn't remember what he'd dreamed about during the few hours he'd been resting, but he knew they hadn't been sweet dreams. His back ached from sleeping on the hard rock floor of the cavern. Dean found the pain in his back strange. He was dead, right? Was he supposed to feel these very alive feelings of discomfort? It was as if he'd never died. He'd just moved… to a very bad location.

He sat up slowly, wiping the sleep from his eyelids. Beside him, he found Elizabeth wide awake and staring at him with her huge, black, unblinking eyes.

Talk about creepy.

"Did you sleep ok?" she asked.

Dean had a hard time picturing Elizabeth as demonic. She was so… nice. Sweet. Almost motherly.

"Uh… I've slept better," he returned.

She smiled softly. "I know what you mean."

"Everyone, up, now! Now, damn it!"

Dean and Elizabeth looked up, startled. Molly was hollering at all of them like a drill sergeant. "I said, now!" she thundered. "Get up! Ruby wants to leave soon!"

Elizabeth sighed heavily beside him. "Like I need to worry about leaving on time," she said quietly. "They never take me with them."

Dean looked at her, surprised. "They don't?"

"Before Ruby lets anyone leave the cavern, she wants to make sure we can handle a fight out in the pit," Elizabeth murmured. "So far, I've yet to be considered ready to handle a fight."

Dean wasn't surprised to hear that, actually. Elizabeth hardly looked like the fighting type. He knew from experience that she was brave. But he sincerely doubted she could kick serious ass.

"Elizabeth!"

The dark haired, sweet faced girl beside him looked up suddenly, obviously nervous. Molly was standing over her, glowering. "Is there a reason you've yet to _get_ _up_?" she snapped.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Molly," she stuttered, getting to her feet.

"Don't cower," she growled. "_Never_ cower, not even to me. Now, get moving. You're going out in the pit."

Elizabeth blinked. "I am?"

"Did I stutter?" she snapped. "Move it!"

Molly turned away from her, shouting at the rest of the people in the cavern. Elizabeth turned to Dean, looking pale with fear and excitement. "I'm going out," she whispered.

Dean nodded at her, trying to smile. It was hard to pull off. He still hadn't quite adjusted to the demon eyes in the heads of the people around him.

"Walker!" Molly snapped on the other side of the room. "You're with Winchester today."

Gordon's eye twitched, but he only nodded and said, "Yes ma'am."

Ruby glided out of the inner chamber, eyeing her troops as she walked. "Let's move," she ordered, marching to the crevice. She climbed up the rock wall, disappearing from view.

"You heard Ruby," Molly snapped. "Let's go!"

She clambered up after Ruby. Following fast behind her was Bill, Collin, Annabelle, and Elizabeth. Dean, frowning, took a step towards the crevice, only to stop in his tracks at Gordon's voice.

"Where do you think you're going, Dean?" he asked, circling the other man. "You and I weren't invited along."

Dean blinked at Gordon. "Come again?"

"You can't just go blindly stumbling around the pit, you know," Gordon replied. "Not before you've been properly… educated."

Dean didn't like the nasty little smile on the former hunter turned vampire's face. "Educated, huh?" he asked, forcing a smirk. "And who's going to educate me? You?"

Suddenly, Dean was airborne. He was lifted bodily off the ground by an unseen hand and tossed backwards across the cavern, only stopping when his back hit the rock wall. Dean slumped to the ground, wincing with pain. He stared at Gordon, disbelieving.

"Now, Dean," Gordon said, his huge creepy eyes watching Dean from his expressionless face. "How did I do that?"

Dean shrugged, trying to smirk as he clambered painfully to his feet. "Got me by the ass," he retorted.

"Well, I see you've got the wise ass comments down," Gordon drawled. "So we can skip that lesson."

Once again, Dean found himself off the ground and flying backwards. He hit the opposite wall and crumbled to the ground.

"Second chance, Dean," Gordon said. "How do you think I did that?"

"I don't know!" Dean snapped. "How the hell _would_ I know, you crazy bastard? Stop throwing me around!"

"Third time's the charm," Gordon smirked. And for the third time, Dean flew through the air and slammed into the cavern wall.

Panting heavily and glaring at the older man, Dean half sat and half lay on the ground, nursing the pain coursing through his entire body. "Any ideas now?" Gordon asked. "Tell me how you think I did that."

"I don't know," Dean intoned in a deadly voice. The deadliness in his tone didn't faze Gordon in the slightest.

"Of course you don't," Gordon returned, pacing the cavern. "That was always your problem, Dean. Never stopped long enough to take in what was going on around you. You're not stupid, you know. Far from it. You could figure these things out, if you tried. But you never try. You just leap from one fight to the next, stopping only to deliver a sarcastic comment or two."

Dean snorted. "All right then, Yoda. Thanks for the pep talk."

"There you go again, Dean," Gordon shook his head, chuckling in that bitter way he had. "This is the pit, boy, and you've got to remember that. You may have fought better than people twice your size topside, but down here? Your fists don't mean a whole lot. This is demon country. And when in demon country…"

"What?" Dean interrupted snidely. "Do like the demons do?"

"Now you're getting it," Gordon replied without missing a beat. "You've got the power, Dean. You just need to learn how to use it."

"So what are you saying?" Dean asked, still sounding snide. "That I've got some sort of wacked out demonic mojo down here, and I need to learn how to harness it? How to use it to my advantage? No thanks, Gordo – I'm trying to _avoid_ being one of you."

"You already _are_ one of us," he retorted. "And trust me, when it comes to demons, you could be joining up with a worse lot. So I suggest you take in what I'm going to teach you. I suggest you accept the gift you've got, and use it for better things."

Suddenly, Dean was lifted up off the ground and again thrown across the cavern. He slammed into the rock wall so hard, that the cavern shook, and bits of rock came crumbling down around him. He slid to the ground, wincing horribly. Glancing up at the wall behind him, he saw a whole new crack forming in the rock where he'd made impact.

He glowered at Gordon. "One more thing," Gordon announced. "You call me Gordo again, boy, and I'll make sure your miserable, pathetic existence experiences a whole new meaning of the word Hell."

* * *

"Do you remember what I said to you, Dean? When I first got you down out of the web?"

Dean, bruised, bloodied, and sore, nodded mutely. Gordon had kicked his ass all over this cavern, and was now attempting to drill some sort of lesson into his head. Dean suspected Gordon still harbored an underlying resentment for the Winchester boys, and that he wanted to get a few beatings in before he stooped to offer either of them a helping hand.

"I said, quit your crying, boy. Don't you know it's all in your head?" Gordon pressed on. "Why do you think I said that, Dean?"

"Because you're an ass?" Dean suggested.

"Still not trying to see what's around you," Gordon shook his head, clucking his tongue. "Oh, well. Listen up, because I'm going to try to open your eyes for you. What you have to get through your head about this place is that most of what you run into down here is one hundred percent mental. The torture, the pain – almost all of it is in your head."

He paused. "It never goes away entirely, you know. You will never get a good night's sleep in the pit, Dean. You will never forget the worst experiences of your life. You will never be able to relive a happy moment, or deliver a genuine smile, or laugh without sounding bitter. Never. And that's the good news. As long as this place can work its magic in your head, you're still human. Barely human, of course, but there's still some left in you."

He paused again. "But you've got to embrace the demonic aspect of your being. There's crazy power that comes with being a demon, and that's all in your head too. You've got to embrace it, learn to control it. Learn to operate outside of the physical realm. Because here's the thing, Dean: down here, there _is_ no physical realm."

Dean blinked at him. Before he could make a smart aleck comment, Gordon pushed on with, "When I kicked your ass all over this cavern, I almost never raised a hand against you. All I had to do was picture it."

"If you can dream it, you can do it," Dean interjected with a smirk.

A nasty smile flickered on Gordon's face. "You try."

Dean stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "You want _me_ to try? What are you, nuts?"

"Just do it."

Feeling ridiculous, Dean stood up from his spot on the cavern floor, gave Gordon and ugly smirk, and then closed his eyes.

"Don't close your eyes."

Now feeling even more ridiculous, Dean opened his eyes and glowered at Gordon. He gave the other hunter yet another ugly smirk. Then Dean focused on the man across from him, picturing him flying into the wall behind him.

Nothing happened. "Focus your thoughts," Gordon instructed.

This was the stupidest thing he'd ever done, and that included trying to style his hair like Elvis that one time back in junior high. Dean thought harder, trying to propel Gordon into the cavern wall with the power of his mind.

Man, this was so unbelievably gay.

"You've got to believe it," Gordon said. "If you just stand there thinking about how stupid this is, it'll never work."

"Yeah, ok, I get it," Dean snapped. "Stow the touchy feely, believe in yourself, center the universe crap – it's not helping."

"You're not helping," Gordon returned smoothly. "You're psyching yourself out."

"Thanks, but I think I can handle this," Dean retorted. "Who the hell do you think you are, anyway, the Dalai Lama?"

Gordon let another nasty smile form on his face. "All right, then. We'll do it the Dean Winchester way." And with that, Dean was off the ground and flying into the wall again.

"Damn it!" Dean exclaimed, hitting the ground painfully and nursing his shoulder. "Jesus Christ, man, this sucks out loud!"

"Do what I'm telling you!" Gordon ordered.

"I'm trying, damn it!"

"Try harder!"

Dean felt himself lift off the ground and hit the wall behind him. "Stop doing that!"

"I'll stop when you start!"

Dean glowered at the other man furiously, and then tried yet again to throw Gordon across the room. He stared at his opponent for a full minute, eye twitching, thinking as hard as he could about Gordon hitting the wall behind him.

Nothing happened.

"Damn it!" Dean exclaimed.

Gordon chuckled. "Harder than it looks, huh?"

Dean balled his hands into fists so tight that his nails bit into his palms. He glowered at the other hunter and tried his hardest to send Gordon flying into the wall.

Again, nothing happened.

Gordon chuckled once more and shook his head. "Don't hurt yourself."

And so it went, the whole time Ruby and her pathetic troop of Marlboro men were gone. When they finally clambered back down into the cavern, Dean was covered in bruises and positively exhausted.

Ruby smirked down at him as she passed. "Why, Dean, you look like Hell."

"Thanks, bitch. You look like shit."

Everyone in the room froze and stared at the two of them in horror. Dean frowned at the reaction.

Ruby ignored them all and let a smile play around her barely distinguishable lips – at least, Dean thought that was a smile. "Don't call me bitch, short bus."

Then she disappeared into her private cavern. The entire assembly gaped at him in awe.

"No one insults Ruby and gets away with it," Bill murmured.

"I thought for sure you were flying through that wall," Elizabeth half whispered.

Gordon chuckled. "Boy, you're lucky you look like you got your ass handed to you today. Otherwise, well… you would have got your ass handed to you."

Dean smirked. Suddenly, bone crushing pain met his jaw line and his head snapped to the side. Wincing, he looked up in surprise and fury to see Molly standing over him.

She didn't even look all that upset. Molly just towered over him in a rather threatening pose, her face impassive and her big black eyes boring into his. "Learn some respect, Winchester," she drawled. "I ain't got no problem kicking a man when he's down."

Dean didn't know what to say, so he said nothing. A wise decision, he decided, because Molly didn't say or do anything else. She just turned on him and walked away, headed for Ruby's cavern.

Gordon let out another low chuckle. "Don't mess with the women in charge," he announced. "One way or another, you're going to get bitch slapped."

* * *

The next day, Dean awoke feeling sore and irritated. He had not slept well the night before. All he could think about was Sam, and what his little brother was doing without him. What sort of things he was fighting and how badly he might be hurt. How he might be…

Don't think it, he ordered himself. Sammy will be fine. He can take care of himself.

Can he, really? A nasty little voice asked inside his head. It's not like he's ever had to before. You and Dad made sure of that.

"Shut up," he growled out loud. Then he glanced around quickly, hoping no one had heard him. Since everyone was either asleep or ignoring him, he decided no one had.

"Who are you talking to?" a soft sleepy voice asked.

Damn it. Dean turned to face Elizabeth, who was sitting up and blinking at him. "No one," he replied.

She shrugged, and got to her feet.

Molly was pacing the floor underneath the crevice. "Molly, what the hell are you doing?" Bill asked, walking over to her.

"Waiting," she replied shortly, her mouth set in a grim line.

"For what? The pizza guy? Girl, sit your ass down and relax!"

"You relax!" Molly snapped. "It may astonish you to know this, but I'm actually expecting someone!"

"Who?"

"Me."

Everyone in the cavern looked up at the voice except for Molly. Ruby climbed slowly and almost majestically down into the cave, and approached Bill in a very slow, frightening manner. "What's the matter, Billy boy?" she asked, a smirk in her voice. "Didn't know I was gone?"

"No ma'am," he replied, inclining his head respectively.

"I want everyone ready to move out. Now," Ruby ordered, glaring around the cavern, daring anyone to argue with her. No one took the bait. "Except you, Dean. And Bill. You can keep him company."

Bill gnawed on his lower lip. "Yes ma'am," he said again. His voice was stiff.

Ruby gave him a curt nod, and then gave Dean a nasty tightlipped little smile. It was quite a creepy little smile, actually, considering there wasn't much left of her lips and her teeth were decaying. Then she clambered back up the crevice. One by one, everyone else followed her, except for Dean and Bill.

It hadn't been all that long since Dean had first entered the chamber, but it felt like an eternity. He was practically climbing the walls. He wanted – no, needed – to get back out into… well, not the fresh air exactly. True, there wasn't much out there that was really all that inviting. But whatever fresh hell lay outside the cavern waiting for him, Dean was positive it had to be more exciting than this.

"Well, well, Winchester," Bill drawled. "Looks like I'm your babysitter for the day."

Dean smirked. "You sure about that? Because the way Ruby just looked at you… I think somebody got grounded. So that would make _me_… your supervisor."

Suddenly, Dean felt his feet leave the ground. He flew backwards into the hard stone wall behind him. Then he slumped to the cavern floor. Glaring up at Bill, he was surprised to see an amused smirk on the other man's face. "If you're the supervisor," Bill asked. "How come I just gave you a spanking?"

Dean offered up a smirk of his own. "Let's not be catty, Winchester," Bill said. "I don't like being stuck in here anymore than you do. But that doesn't mean we got to pull each other's hair out over it. We're grown men, not little girls. I like you. You've got backbone, and a sense of humor. Let's be as civil as a couple of demons can be, eh?"

Dean pretended to mull it over. "All right," he said finally. "Let's be best friends. We can sit together at lunch and wear matching necklaces and maybe even have a sleepover."

Bill snorted. He looked genuinely amused. "See what I mean? That's what I like about you, Winchester. Now, can we play nice, or am I going to have to tell everyone in school you slept with the whole football team?"

Dean couldn't help it. A small chuckle escaped his lips. Then he stood up and gave Bill a short grin and a friendly nod. "All right," he agreed. "Officially playing nice."

Bill returned the grin and nod. "First things first," he announced. "What did Walker teach you yesterday?"

Dean shrugged. "How to use the Force. Apparently, I'm not exactly Jedi material."

Bill snorted again. "I loved that movie. Saw it in theatres nearly ten times."

Dean blinked. Whoa. He'd nearly forgotten. Elizabeth had said Molly and Bill had ended up down here in the seventies. That, of course, meant Bill had been around for the premiere of the first Star Wars movie. And that was incredibly freaky.

"That yoga mumbo-jumbo," Bill went on, harrumphing. "As if that were really the key to using your powers. It's not that simple _or_ that complicated. One day, you know, it just clicks. And then you can use it."

"Well… how does it click?" Dean asked slowly.

Bill screwed up his face and thought a moment. "Uh… I don't know exactly. It just does."

Dean couldn't believe this. Talk about the worst teacher in the world. Bill seemed like a cool guy… you know, for a demon… but he wasn't exactly helpful when it came to this whole mastery of Dean's demonic potential shit. He had a feeling he was in for an afternoon of little instruction.

His feeling, as it turned out, was right. Bill did a lot of throwing him into things, just like Gordon, which got Dean real bruised up and irritated. Then he'd screw up his face and think a moment, and try to give Dean a helpful hint. The hints were never helpful, though. Either they were so contradictory to one another that they were confusing, or they just plain didn't help. By the end of the session, Dean was missing Gordon.

And so it went. Dean tried to use the power of his mind, and failed dismally. Bill was a good sport about it, but a terrible teacher. And when Ruby and her troops came marching back to the cavern late that day, or night, or whatever it was, Dean was in almost as bad a shape as the night before, and with even less to show for it.

After a supposed good night's rest – yeah, right – Dean awoke yet again to the sound of Ruby and Molly yelling orders. He struggled to his feet and watched as the rest of the people in the cavern rushed to follow instructions. Mildly bored, he wondered without much interest who would be his Obi-Wan Kenobi for the day.

"Molly," Ruby snapped suddenly.

"Yes ma'am?" Molly asked without hesitation.

"You're with Winchester today."

The look on Molly's face was priceless. Clearly, she thought herself above baby-sitting the newbie. Dean almost laughed.

"Yes ma'am," Molly replied, her face stony.

Ruby gave her what almost looked like a sympathetic smile – it was hard to tell given the lack of skin – and then led the rest of the demons out of the cavern. Molly turned to face Dean. Suddenly, the situation was a lot less amusing. Dean swallowed hard in spite of himself. Molly stared at him, face blank.

"Well, well, Winchester," she announced, speaking slowly. Her face was expressionless. "Looks like it's just you and me."

* * *


End file.
